


Broken Tradition

by New_Elysia



Category: The Chronicles Of Vladimir Tod - Heather Brewer
Genre: Cip's gonna kill me for this, Gen, I'm Sorry, i wrote this because of a head canon, sadfic, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_Elysia/pseuds/New_Elysia
Summary: The Council President in London awaits a phone call that won't come.





	

Elizabeth –Lizzy for short- was the president of the London council, she’d led this council since the founding of Brittan’s first colonies, and helped stablished what was now the Stokerton branch of Elysia. A rebellious branch if she ever did say so, they’d always been trouble. They’d chosen to side with the humans in the rebellion that made America its own nation. A battle that’d deeply cost them, no by monetary standards, no, that was not an issue. Their president had been speared through the heart by a stray bayonet, killing him instantly. Their vice president paused, only for a moment to take in the sight of his fallen leader, then he took up the reins and led his council and the army behind him to a victory. A victory that had previously been assured to be a defeat.

When the war was over and peace returned to Elysia, D’Ablo had been elected to lead the council. And so it was for the next two centuries, the Stokerton council had been led by a man considered to be nearly genius. Though they had their trifles and the relationship between Stokerton’s district and London’s district had become strained in the years immediately following the war, things progressed. Elysia adapted to the influence of another council president and the world moved forward. The vampires in America grew their own empire and worked to forward Vampiric interests first. The only real split it ever experienced came during the civil war, causing Elysia to operate without the aid of Stokerton while the war raged in America.

Elizabeth looked to the side, an old German made cuckoo clock hung on the wall, its hands pointing out that 7 am was drawing near. That meant it was nearly midnight in Stokerton, her greyish blue eyes then darted to the small calendar on her computer. It was July 4th, a mundane day for the rest of the world. But for America, it was a day with a reason for celebration, it was their independence day. The day they tossed the snow ball that turned into an avalanche of war and bloodshed. The Stokerton council had also taken up this day as their own independence day, and like the humans, threw a small party to celebrate. But there was one other thing, one other tradition they had started a decade after the war had ended. Every year they’d either send letters or –when phones became common place- would call the London council. They would each call their respective member; treasure would call treasure, vice president would call vice president and D’Ablo would call her. They would call and sing or -in D’Ablo’s case- sometimes shout the American national anthem or some other American patriotic song. Then they’d burst into laughter at the reactions of the London council. They’d tried appealing to Em to put an end to their little game, unfortunately, Madame Council could have cared less for their squabble. It didn’t interfere with Elysia’s operations or break any laws, so it was of little concern. After a while, the other council members had decided upon turning off their phones for the night, Lizzy didn’t.

You see, Elizabeth was petty, some might say she was even pettier than D’Ablo. Though that was a hard thing to match; her vice president, a vampire by the name Victor, had once joked she sat by the phone waiting like a teen age girl with a crush. He’d promptly had a paper weight tossed in his general direction and the topic had never been breached again.

Seconds ticked by and the clock struck seven, the clock on the wall let out it’s little black bird and made it’s respective noises. Elizabeth looked down at her cellphone, the screen still dark. It struck her as strange, D’Ablo had always been someone who’d always be early or on time, rarely ever late. But the minutes ticked by, turning slowing into hours 7:30, 8:00, 8:30, 9:00… it didn’t make any sense, D’Ablo never missed a day. When he’d been struck the first time with the Lucis by Tomas’s son, he’d still called. Elizabeth had even given the wounded vampire time to get to the usually stanza between coughing fits before snapping at him. He’d still laughed, though it had triggered another coughing fit from the wounded vampire. Perhaps it was sympathy for him that convinced her to let him get that far, even though she knew why he was calling in the first place. He’d also called after he’d both lost his hand and had run in with the sun the year prior, it was clear he was in a lot of physical pain then. It was the one time she’d let him finish the song he’d been singing.

But these year, why would he not call this year? Why, when he’d never missed one before? It made no sense… then, as if the world had crashed down around Elizabeth, it did. D’Ablo wasn’t going to call today, he wasn’t going to call next year either. D’Ablo wasn’t going to call her ever again, because he was dead. D’Ablo had been murdered almost two months before, found beheaded and burned in his office. The cause of death had been having his heart ripped from his chest. The vampire behind the desk stood, checking the clock once more. D’Ablo was gone, he wouldn’t be there at any future functions, any meetings, or Elysian celebrations. D’Ablo, the vampire who seemed impossible to kill, who would get back up and become stronger than before, who’d fight tooth and nail for survival and success; was gone.


End file.
